A Second Chance
by NettieC
Summary: Eighteen months on, Mac is still struggling with the aftermath of a miscarriage. Will she get a second chance? Does she want a second chance?


Disclaimer: Not mine  
>AN: This is just something for a change of pace and is definitely a one shot...thanks.<p>

For weeks now his wife had not been herself. Harm could see it in her eyes, in the way she carried herself, in the change in her sleeping patterns. Still, when he asked Mac always had an answer; allergies, sore neck, too much work.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, he had noticed she was going to bed earlier and pretending to sleep. Morning would show that she was not at all refreshed and his concern grew. Then he was sent to San Diego for three days and to his surprise Mac barely spoke to him the morning he left. His kiss goodbye was more obligatory than loving and so he decided to call her doctor while he was away in the hope of shedding some light on the matter. The doctor wouldn't reveal anything but did ask Harm a whole lot of questions which he willingly answered if it meant that Mac would get the care she required.

Getting a call from the doctor's receptionist on December 21st letting her know the doctor wanted to see her did nothing for Mac's mood or wellbeing. The patient requesting an appointment was one thing, the doctor doing it was a whole other ballgame.

Still, she presented herself at the clinic the following morning, and hoped that this was all a mistake.  
>"Sarah, come on in," Dr Hayes said, standing in the doorway to his office. "Thank you for coming in."<br>"Hello, Dr Hayes, I didn't think I had much of a choice," she said, sitting in the offered chair.  
>"There's always a choice, Sarah," he said, taking a seat behind his desk. "But I am glad you came."<br>"What's wrong with me?" she asked bluntly. After all, that had to be the point of this whole appointment.  
>"Straight to the point I see," he said with a chuckle. "At your appointment two weeks ago you said that things were improving, you were sleeping better and you were feeling good."<br>"That's right," she replied, remembering how she'd sat in this office, in this very seat, and lied to the good doctor's face.  
>"I want you to take a breath and think about telling me the truth," Dr Hayes said, putting down his pen.<br>"Excuse me?" Mac asked, offended by the implication she had lied.  
>"You heard me," he replied. Yes, Mac was a feisty marine but Dr Hayes was also a marine and very used to calling things as they were.<br>"Are you saying I lied in my last appointment?" she challenged, wanting to get up and storm out.  
>"Are you saying you didn't?" he countered, but not wanting the situation to blow up, he put his hands up. "Let's start again... Sarah, I am aware you have not been sleeping recently..."<br>"How? Harm?" she asked and when he didn't reply Mac had her answer. "Did he call you?"  
>"Sarah, don't worry about Harm, worry about you," he said calmly.<p>

Mac glared at him and any less a person would have cowered and conceded quickly but Dr Leonard Hayes was a tough man and this particular patient wasn't getting the best of him.  
>"Sarah?" he prompted, moving from his chair to rest on the front of his desk.<br>"You're a bastard," she said getting to her feet.  
>"Yes, I have been told that by many people, my wife included," he said with a smile.<p>

His response infuriated Mac even further, just who the hell did he think he was!  
>"I'm out of here," she said getting to her feet and storming to the door.<br>"That's your choice, Sarah," he called after her, "But it won't fix things."

Pausing at the door, her hand on the handle, Mac rested her forehead on the cool wood. Despite his method, the man was right, walking out wouldn't fix things, something she was desperate to do ... even if it didn't look like it to anyone else.  
>"Sarah," Dr Hayes said, watching her every move. "I would really like to talk this through with you."<p>

Talking a deep breath, Mac pushed off the door and sat in her chair once more before nodding, maybe talking would help.  
>"Thank you," he said taking his own chair once more. "Perhaps you would like to tell me about things in your own words..."<p>

Mac looked at the psychologist and nodded, perhaps she would.

Taking a deep breath, Mac looked down at her clenched hands.  
>"I keep thinking about that pregnancy," she started quietly. "And I want to be okay. I mean, after all, another pregnancy would be different to the last, a new chance ...and there's nothing to say I'd miscarry like I did last time..."<br>"Sarah, you miscarried because you were in a car accident," he said gently. "There was no way to stop that."  
>"Yeah, I know," she said, swiping at her tears. "But it took us so long to get pregnant and it was a dream come true... to lose her at seven months was devastating."<br>"I understand that," he said, and he did; his wife having miscarried three times, all late term. "That's when you first came to see me."  
>"Yeah," Mac agreed. "And we worked through things and I learnt to accept it wasn't my fault and tried to get on with things."<br>"That's right," he agreed. They had both worked hard in the past 18 months to help Mac overcome her pain and grief and to get her to the point of at least considering getting pregnant again. "So how come things have fallen apart?"  
>"What makes you think they've fallen apart?" she asked but the tears on her face, the dark rings under her eyes and the huge weight loss all bore testimony to the fact she wasn't coping at all at the moment.<br>"Sarah?" he questioned, they'd also spent considerable time discussing the fact she answered questions with questions when she was lying.  
>"I'm eight weeks pregnant," she said placing her hands over her face and sobbing.<br>"Oh, Sarah," he said, rounding the desk and rubbing her back. It explained everything.

By the time Mac had finished her hour session with Dr Hayes she was emotionally and physically exhausted and had driven home in a haze. Had Harm been home and not in San Diego she would have called him to come and pick her up, as it was she was on her own and perhaps, she conceded, it was for the best as she needed time to get herself together.

Asleep by noon, Mac didn't register the arrival of her husband who was more than concerned to find her asleep in bed, half a box of tissues on the floor courtesy of her crying herself to sleep. Toeing off his shoes, Harm shed his uniform and slid into the space beside her before edging over and wrapping her in his arms.

It didn't take long for Mac to stir enough to realise Harm was home and to reposition herself so her head was on his chest and her arm wrapped tightly around his waist. Harm said nothing and kissed her head, holding her to him. It had probably been three weeks since she been so close to him. Lying perfectly still, Harm alternated between watching his wife sleep and staring at the walls or ceiling.

Eventually, Mac woke to find her husband gazing lovingly at her.  
>"Hey," she said, moving her hand to caress his face.<br>"Hey," he replied, turning his head to kiss her hand as it wandered near his mouth.  
>"Wasn't expecting you home until tonight," she said quietly.<br>"Wrapped it up earlier than I thought," he replied, his gaze never leaving her face.  
>"I'm glad," she said with a smile. "I missed you."<br>"Missed you too," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Snaking her arm around his neck, Mac drew them closer together, feeling bad for everything she'd put him through in recent weeks, feeling bad for not telling him she was pregnant, feeling bad for not speaking to him once during his three days in San Diego.  
>"I love you," he whispered, kissing her head, "So very much."<br>"Love you," she replied, even though he was muffled by his chest.

Even though he wanted to talk about so much, to hear her explain things, those two words were enough for now and he simply closed his eyes and waited for his wife to be ready.  
>Long after the light faded from the window, both lay there wondering who was going to make the first move. Neither had eaten lunch and dinner time had come and gone, both needed the bathroom and both needed to talk, but still they lay there quietly not wanting to lose the tenuous connection they had re-established.<p>

Finally, Harm could wait no longer and gently caressed her face.  
>"You know I love you, don't you?" he asked and she nodded. "I will always be here for you, no matter what. Now, I desperately want you to talk to me and let me in but I understand that's probably a little hard at the moment especially on an empty stomach, so here's what I propose... we get up, freshen up and I will cook or order anything your heart desires for dinner, or take you any place you want to go to eat, and we'll leave the talking until later tonight or whenever you're ready. Deal?"<br>"Deal," she said with a sigh of relief, there were so many things she wanted to say to him but right now she was feeling extremely tongue tied.  
>"Now, what would you like to eat, sweetheart?" he asked, raking his fingers through her hair.<p>

Mac shrugged as she contemplated his question. While she wasn't experiencing morning sickness or nausea, the whole situation had caused a loss of appetite. Still, she told herself, she needed to eat, and eat well, for her own sake and especially that of the baby.  
>"Maybe we can order some lamb and chicken dishes from Socrates," she said, "And maybe some spanakopita and saganaki."<br>"Sounds like a good idea," he said, kissing her head as he went to get up.  
>"And Harm..." she said, taking hold of his hand but not looking at him. "Thanks..."<br>Knowing she was struggling, Harm raised her hand and kissed it. "Anytime, Mac."

It took 45 minutes for the restaurant to deliver and the couple spent their time on the sofa in front of the fire, looking to the space the Christmas tree should be standing. The one Mac wasn't interested in putting up. It was the cause of a huge argument the day before Harm left for San Diego when Harm had suggested he pull down the boxes from the attic and Mac had let him know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't putting a Christmas decoration up at all.

When he tried to explain that they'd had one the year before and it wasn't betraying the memory of their baby girl, Mac had sworn at him using such unfamiliar language, from her, it made the sailor blush.  
>"Maybe we should put up some decorations," Mac said quietly from the safety of his arms. "You were right ... I was wrong and I'm sorry," she added looking at the empty space.<br>"I never meant to make you so upset the other day," he said, kissing her head.  
>"I know," she replied. "And you were right; it isn't betraying Amira to have the decorations up."<p>

Harm pressed a kiss against her temple and fought his tears. This was the first time she'd used their daughter's name in months, usually just referring to her as 'the baby', that was on the few occasions she mentioned her.

After taking three years, Mac had finally fallen pregnant and after starting off slowly when it came to buying for the child and decorating a nursery for fear of jinxing it, once the six month mark passed and the news was still all positive, Mac threw herself into the planning for baby's arrival and spent many nights in the nursery painting and decorating. She'd spent a week's salary in one visit to Baby's 'r' Us and was still convinced she hadn't bought enough. Harm had just laughed and reassured her that if she bought another thing they would have to move into an aircraft hangar just to accommodate the gear they had bought for their little princess.

Tragically, just after the seven month mark, Mac had been driving to work when her car was sideswiped by an out of control car. The driver of the other vehicle had had a fatal cardiac arrest at the wheel, there was no way to avoid it, and it was no one's fault. It was a simple and catastrophic accident as the seatbelt locked and the airbag burst, both causing abdominal injuries.

Mac had been in the ER forty minutes before the ultrasound showed what her heart knew, the baby had died. When Harm burst into her room he could tell by the look on her face the worst had happened. She wasn't crying she was just lying there staring into the nothingness of her new existence.

It had been a dreadfully tough day; the c-section to deliver the child was done later that day and Harm and Mac had the privilege of being able to hold the bundle for a short while. Smaller than most newborns they had seen, their daughter was perfect in every way. Ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes, little plump lips and a cute button nose. Staring at the child, Mac had realised she would never know the colour of the child's eyes and that was something that still haunted her 18 months after the child's death.

A social worker and nurse had visited them while they held their daughter and asked if they wanted her named. Of course, they wanted her named, she may not have taken a breath but she would forever be a part of their lives, their family.

As Harm had called the bump 'Princess' from the day they found out it was a girl, Mac had given the name 'Amira', Persian for princess. It seemed to match her brown hair and looks. And while Mac had been the one to pick the name she hadn't used it much lately.  
>"Maybe we can put some up tomorrow," she said, entwining her fingers with his.<br>"We can do that," he said, holding her a little tighter.

Another deep breath, another sigh, and Mac rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes; how did she have this conversation with her husband?

With a reprieve from thinking with the delivery of their food, Mac grabbed some forks and napkins while Harm collected some bottles of water. Setting out the dishes on the dining table, Mac sat down next to Harm, rather than her usual place across from him. Although she couldn't express it, she was gaining comfort from just being next to him.

While Mac ate some of the dishes she'd requested, Harm tucked into the baked eggplant with tomato, onions and garlic he had ordered for himself. Breaking a piece from the spanakopita, Mac offered it to Harm which he took, kissing her cheek in a gesture of thanks.

By the time the dinner was over, Mac had eaten more than she'd had in days and enough to allow Harm to breathe a bit easier. He knew she wasn't eating much and this concerned him as much as the lack of sleep did. With everything cleared away, they moved back to the sofa and curled up together once more.

Just as Harm thought that Mac had drifted off to sleep, she spoke.  
>"I know I have been having problems lately," she said, staring into the fire. "I know I haven't been eating or sleeping and I know I have been a complete bitch to you and for that I am so very sorry..." she said, absently rubbing his arm which was wrapped around her. "I am having ... I am finding... God, I can't even say it..."<br>"Just take your time," Harm whispered, kissing her head, glad from their position she couldn't see the tears rolling down his face.

After a few moments of silence and a few deep breaths, Mac tried again.  
>"Losing Amira killed me ..." she said, ignoring her tears. "And I know it killed you too. She was already daddy's little princess and we had so many hopes and dreams for her and then she was gone and we never got to see her smile... to hear her voice...hell, we will never know what colour our own daughter's eyes were."<br>"I know," he whispered, his tears taking his voice.  
>"And I thought I was coping with it ... you know, getting on with life, and I was... I was doing well," she said squeezing his hand. "I could get through a day without crying... I could actually look into the nursery ..."<br>"Me too," he said softly.  
>"But then ... but now..." she faltered.<br>"What is it, Mac?" he questioned, using his hand to gently turn her face to his. "Tell me."  
>"I'm pregnant," she whispered, tears cascading down her cheeks. "Eight weeks."<p>

Not knowing exactly what to say Harm pulled her around and held her tightly. This explained everything and it was to his dismay he realised he hadn't even considered it to be the reason. He'd figured it was a relapse into her grief as she'd been acting the same way she had been after Amira's death.  
>"How do you feel about that?" he finally asked, pulling back to see her face.<br>"I'm scared to death," she cried, clinging onto him. "I do want this baby but I am so very, very scared... I don't know if I can survive losing another child...I'm not that strong."  
>"You, Sarah MacKenzie, are the strongest person I know," he said, gently kissing her.<br>"I don't feel it," she whispered, closing her eyes momentarily.  
>"I don't feel all that strong myself," he admitted, kissing her forehead. "But together we will get through this whatever happens."<br>"Promise?" she asked looking up at him. Losing Harm was as scary a thought as losing a second child and she knew the way she had treated him lately gave him every right to walk out on her.  
>"With all my heart, with everything I am, I promise," he whispered, before kissing her again.<br>"So, we're going to have a baby," she said, taking a deep breath and steeling herself.  
>"We are," he said kissing her head. "Do you think it's going to be a boy or girl?" he asked; the exact same question he had asked her first time around.<br>"A boy," she said confidently. Last time she had picked the baby as a girl from day one and she had been right.  
>"A boy would be nice," Harm replied, hoping a healthy baby boy might make it easier for them both and lessen the desire to make comparisons between Amira and the new baby.<br>"What about names?" she asked; the same question she'd asked last time.  
>"Maybe we can wait a bit," he replied, not wanting to get too attached to soon.<br>"That's a good idea," she said resting back against him once more.

And while the world went on outside their house, the wind blew and the snow fell, Mac and Harm remained curled up on the sofa praying that this time, their Christmas miracle would be with them the following Christmas. Either way though, they knew that whatever the New Year brought them, they would get through it, so long as they were together.


End file.
